


Closure

by Million_Moments



Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: Angst, F/M, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2013-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 08:11:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/696147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Million_Moments/pseuds/Million_Moments
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arrivals to the island mean everyone finds out a lot more about Richard's past than he'd like, because there are some wounds that just don't heal/</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Seeing a Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been out of the fanfiction game for a while so have no beta for Death in Paradise fanfictions – and my spelling and grammar is atrocious. Any offers of assistance would be appreciated. This will contain Richard/Camille. I have a lot of ideas for stories exploring more about Richard’s past, starting with this one. I started writing this before seeing Season 2 episode 5, so now it doesn't seem to fit so well with cannon, but oh well.

When the woman walked into the station, Richard lost his composure. Camille noticed immediately, because in doing so he spilled coffee all over her sandaled feet. However this wasn’t his “oh my God a hot women just walked in” face, she’d seen that on many an occasion. Not that the woman was unattractive, but she was rather modestly dressed and at least ten years his junior. No, he had more of an “Oh my God I’ve just seen a ghost” look.

The woman in question had now locked eyes on Richard, and seemed quite concerned by his reaction to her. Before Camille had the chance to break the silence, she spoke, revealing she was English, “Richard, it’s me, Mille? You remember me, right?”

All eyes in the room turned to him, and Richard let go of the breath he’d been holding, “Of course, Mille.” He then proceeded to stare at the floor.

Millie proceeded to introduce herself, “I’m DC Millie Peterson,” She said brightly as she shook hands with Dwayne, Fidel and Camille, who also introduced themselves. “I’m a Family Liaison Officer most of the time but got seconded to Barbados, so came to see you whilst I was in the area. “ This was addressed to Richard, but he was still staring at the floor.

Clearly uncomfortable, DC Peterson continued to keep chatting “Richard used to babysit me. Well, actually, he was dating my sister when they were at Cambridge together. She had to look after me a lot of the time, and she’d get Richard over hoping they could dump me and spend some time together. However Richard was terrified of my father and what he would have done to him if something happened to me so he always paid more attention to me than Madeline.”

Camille was loving this, she turned playfully to Richard, assuming his reticence was fear this DC Peterson would reveal embarrassing information about his past. “So she dumped you?” she asked, nudging him. But there was no responding glare or eye roll, just an almost silent, “no”.

DC Peterson winced and hesitated before continuing, “No, unfortunately Maddie died.”

Richard suddenly roused himself, “Well it was good of you to stop by Millie, but I need to go now though.” He stumbled out of the station. SC Peterson sighed and sat down heavily on the desk, dropping a plastic bag next to her.

“Oh my God I should go after him,” Camille attempted to follow, but Peterson held up her hands to halt her progress.

“Camille,” She said, “Trust me when I say you shouldn’t. In my experience men deal with these things in one of two ways. He’s either going to get drunk, in which case you can pick him up in a couple of hours, or he’ll wonder off and maybe punch a wall or two and come back in an hour or so pretending nothing is wrong. Or perhaps he’ll do a bit of both…either way he does not want anybody to see him weak. It’s…an English thing.”

Camille was not convinced, but she also felt she was missing some vital information this woman could provide.

“I shouldn’t have come; I thought he’d be okay now.” The attention was now turned from the door from which Richard had left to Peterson, and they waited for her to volunteer more information. “My sister Madeline was murdered. I was 10, Richard 21; it was when they were at Cambridge together. They’d been together for 3 years. The police were able to identify the killer, but he disappeared off the face of the earth and was thus never arrested. I became a police family liaison officer to help people in the same situation as me, I’m sure Richard had similar ideas when he joined the service. He got in touch again when I graduated and offered help if I ever needed it. We email, chat on the phone sometimes, he’s told me all about you.“ She looked up and managed a smile for the team. “But he wasn’t seen me since I was 12, and everybody says I look just like my sister now.”

So Camille’s earlier instinct that Richard had seen a ghost seemed to be correct. She sat down next to Millie, who suddenly looked a lot younger, and put a comforting arm around her shoulders, “I’m so sorry.”

Millie nodded her thanks, before continuing, “We have a slightly bigger problem than Richard being spooked by me. I wasn’t seconded to Barbados; I was there because we finally got a lead on the location of the man who killed my sister. We’ve found him, and in one week, he’ll be on Saint Marie.”

 


	2. Let's pretend nothing happened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta, so apologies for any mistakes.

Fidel broke the silence, “And then you’ll be able to arrest him.”

Millie nodded her ascent, “We’ll be able to arrest him. Currently he is actively involved in a drug smuggling ring in Barbados, the Police there have a major operation underway to break it open but they are willing to let me have him for the murder once they are finished flushing out the rest of the ring. As long as he is off their island, they are happy.”

“This is good news,” Fidel concluded. “We should tell the Inspector.”

“No,” said Millie adamantly. “I’m not sure he should know. I mean if he can’t bare the sight of me…I’m not sure I should let this happen at all. I think I should let Barbados have him.”

DC Peterson could tell the room was not necessarily in agreement with her, so she backtracked slightly, “Look, we have a whole week, let’s see how it goes.” She picked up the plastic bag and passed it to Camille, then pressed a business card into her hands. “I brought him some things from home, tea, biscuits; tell him I was just stopping by to drop these off.”

She turned to leave, but then changed her mind, “He’s going to wonder what the hell I told you. I’d just pat him on the shoulder and give him a cup of tea. He’ll understand.”

And then she was gone.

 

 

It turned out that Richard decided to take the “go away for an hour or two and then come back pretending nothing was wrong” route. Actually, it was 1 hour and 36 minutes, not that Camille had been timing. If you really scrutinised him, his eyes did seem a bit red. There was also sand on the bottom of his trousers, probably from standing on the beach lobbing stones into the ocean. Not that Camille had called her mother, Dr. Johnson, the harbour master, several ex-boyfriends and pretty much everyone she knew on the island to establish where he was and if he was ok.

Richard spotted the plastic bag on his desk, “What’s this?”

Fidel responded, “Millie brought you some things from England, Sir, including tea!” Fidel passed him a cup rather proudly; he may have gone online to double check how to brew it properly.

“And biscuits!” Dwayne chimed in, offering the packet to his superior whilst unsuccessfully trying to hide the fact he’d already nicked some.

In the intense discussion that had followed the DC leaving, Camille had been elected chief “shoulder patter” by Dwayne and Fidel. She suddenly realised how difficult such a restrained show of sympathy might be to achieve. She walked around behind his desk, placed a hand on his shoulder, and said “So maybe now you’ll stop grumbling for a while,” He smiled up at her. She’d done good.

 

 

That evening, a few hours after Dwayne and Fidel had left being done for the day, Camille and Richard were still sitting in the darkening office. Camille was rapidly running out of excuses for why she was still there. Her current explanation being that she was reading police alerts from the neighbouring islands, but she’d actually finished that 40 minutes ago and watching videos of cute goats on YouTube. She could just leave, but she didn’t really want to until she was 100% certain the Inspector was intending to completely ignore the events of the afternoon. She’d become quite engrossed by videos of fainting goats and as a consequence managed to miss Richard walking around to behind her when he went to fetch a drink.

“Are Montserrat worried about goat smuggling?” He asked, causing her to jump. She looked at him sheepishly, but he grinned and offered her a bourbon from the already half empty packet.

“Dwayne has a new favourite biscuit?” She enquired as she helped herself.

“I’ve had nearly as many as him,” he conceded. “Shall we see what else is in here whilst Dwayne isn’t here to nick anything that is edible?”

He began to rummage through the bag, pulling out an additional pack of tea, something called Rich Tea biscuits and then gave a triumphant cry upon pulling out a DVD, “Antiques Roadshow!” He cried delightedly. Camille took the DVD out of his hands and contemplated the woman on the front of the case.

“So this is Fiona Bruce?”

Richard instantly became his usual flustered self when the topic of women came up, “Ah yes, that’s right…”

He had quietened upon pulling out a DVD-R, and it seemed to Camille he was forgetting to breathe again. Camille placed the Antiques Roadshow DVD back in the plastic bag and gently enquired “And what is that, Sir?”

 Richard turned the disc towards her so she could read the neatly written label: “Madeline, open mic night, St. Catherine’s College”.

“I guess Millie had the original video recordings transferred to DVD. Madeline was a very good singer.” He took a deep breath, “Do you want to watch it?”

He was already opening the DVD drive on his computer, so Camille pulled up a chair next to him as he clicked on the video file. The picture was quite dark, but the audio quality was surprisingly good. A young man was on stage presumably warming up the audience, and soon could be heard introducing Madeline Peterson.

A girl stood up from the crowd and Camille now fully understood why people said Millie looked just like her sister. The woman on screen was a bit curvier than her very slender sister, and her mahogany hair was certainly in a style that stayed very much in the nineties as opposed to Millie’s long bob, but they were so very similar. Studying the screen, Camille spotted something that almost made her squeal, “Oh my Goodness is that you?”

Richard groaned and covered his face with his hands, on screen Madeline was whispering in his ear, and he stood up and followed her looking resigned. He sat at a piano stage left.

“What did she say to you?” Camille asked, whilst trying to get over the shock that Richard played the piano.

“I didn’t want to play, I hated crowds, and she told me she had found somebody else and just needed me for rehearsals but she hadn’t. She told me if I didn’t play for her she’d never have sex with me again, and being 19 that made quite an impression.”

Camille chocked up with laughter, but stopped when Madeline began to sing. Richard was watching the screen with a mixture of longing and sadness.

“She has a beautiful voice, and you play very well,” She choose to place a hand on his right shoulder again, and to her surprise he reached his left arm across her body and briefly squeezed it.

“Thank you.”

On screen, couples had begun to fill the small dance floor in front of the stage. Suddenly Richard stood, pushing his chair back, and offering his hand to her. Camille could only look at him in confusion, “Sir?”

“Would you like to dance?” he asked in a tone rather more confident than he looked. “Madeline loved it when people danced.”

Camille felt rather obligated to accept, and took his hand. She was surprised how close he held her, and realised for the first time how true the saying was that people mourn in different ways. Perhaps he couldn’t just ask for a hug, maybe he had to use a dance for an excuse.

She attempted to temper the thrill of pleasure she got from being so close to him. Despite the deep breath of her hair he seemed to take, or the feel of his hands on her hips, she couldn’t help wondering if it was really her he was dancing with.

 

 


	3. A Little Bit of Manipulation Goes A Long Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very short stop gap chapter which I decided to post because it at least moves the plot forward a little!

It didn’t really matter that the Chief Superintendent hadn’t bothered to check the time difference before calling DI Richard Poole at 5:30 AM local time. He hadn’t exactly been sleeping.

“The problem with DC Millie Peterson,” were the opening lines of the superintendent. “Is that she is very well liked, and so damn good at her job. People want to keep her happy because they want her on their team. I’ve had officers tell me they’ve seen families thank her sincerely after she breaks the news of a murder to them.”

“Yes Sir,” Richard responded warily, really not sure where this was going.

“Because she is so well liked, people will do favours for her – even ones that might be inappropriate. This is how she got permission to go to Barbados on the trail of Colin Boot, a man responsible for the death of her sister and currently under investigation for drug smuggling by our comrades in Barbados. She was supposed to simply guarantee that he would be extradited to face murder charges in the UK, are you following me Inspector?”

This enquiry was probably promoted by the fact that Richard’s habit of forgetting to breathe had kicked in again at the name of Madeline’s killer. He did manage to respond, “I am, Sir.”

“Well, we expect DC Peterson to be in contact shortly,” The Superintendent was a little behind. “Barbados police discovered that Boot had plans to visit Saint Marie and they agreed to allow Boot to make the trip so that DC Peterson could arrest him upon his arrival in a little less than a week, and he could then immediately be deported to the UK for trial. “

“I see, Sir.”

“In general, a police officer should not arrest the killer of her sister – could be seen as a little unprofessional. I spoke to my counterpart in Barbados about arresting Boot before his departure but it seems she has been equally charmed by the enigmatic DC Peterson as her colleagues here. She said we should be grateful to avoid a lengthy and expensive extradition process. Your task, DI Poole, is the following. If you cannot talk any sense into DC Peterson, your team will perform the arrest and make sure everything goes smoothly. I’ve had Barbados police forward you all the relevant information.”

“Yes Sir.” Richard managed to get that out before the superintendent hung up.

 

It didn’t really matter that somebody was banging on DC Millie Peterson’s hotel room door at 6:20 AM, she hadn’t exactly been sleeping. She had a pretty good idea who it would be, and braced herself emotionally before opening the door.

“There’s no bloody way we’re letting Barbados have him,” Richard said barging his way in past her and coming to a stop in the centre of the room. Millie shut the door and leaned against it, observing the determined man before her. She shouldn’t have doubted him.

“Which of your colleagues spoke up then?”

“None of them, though they should have. I got a phone call from your Chief Superintendent in London. By the end of the phone call two things were very clear. Firstly, and this probably isn’t the politest way to put this, you seem to have your sister’s skills of manipulation as well as her looks.” He gestured a little violently at her, but Millie just shrugged one shoulder and chose not to defend herself. “Secondly, he has no idea that I, too, have a personal connection to this case.”

“Well why would he?” Millie said as she pushed herself off of the door and walked up to Richard. “You weren’t a suspect, or related, you’re practically a little footnote in the case file. I know, I’ve seen it. “

This seemed to pain Richard more than she imagined, “What else did he say?”

“That I was to attempt to reason with you, to let Barbados police perform the arrest –“

“Which you’ve just said won’t be happening.”

“-Which will not be happening. If that didn’t work I was to have my team carry out the arrest without a hitch.”

 “So we’re going to arrest him then?” She asked, half a smile on her lips.

Richard nodded once, firmly, “We are going to arrest him.”


	4. Chapter 4

 

When they were looking after her, Millie used to hear the same phrase from both Madeline and Richard a lot, “Millie, you’ve got a bloody death wish.” To a certain extent it was true. She climbed places mountain goats would struggle to stay stable on their feet (hooves?), she rarely paused before crossing the road but probably worst of all, she never paid attention to what she was eating, despite her severe peanut allergy. She wasn’t really sure how many adrenaline pens she’d gone through, but she was betting somebody paid taxes that pretty much went straight to the NHS to pay for her pens.

Richard had told Millie to meet him at the station but only DS Bordey had been there when she arrived. She told her Fidel and Dwayne had gone to investigate a house break in and Richard would be back in a minute. Camille had then offered her some of French chocolate that Millie had popped into her mouth absent minded as ever. And now Millie knew she’d be hearing that phrase from Richard again.

He arrived back just as the symptoms of anaphylaxis were setting in.  Richard took one look at her, sighed aggressively and asked “Did you eat something with peanuts in?”

Millie instantly felt like she was ten years old again, “I think so.” She managed to reply, feeling her throat start to constrict.

“Oh my God you’re allergic? Should I call an ambulance?” Camille stood but Richard waved away her concern.

“It’s fine, where is your adrenaline pen, Mille?”

Now for things to get really embarrassing, “I had to use it in Barbados and I didn’t get a replacement.”

Camille came and crouched down next to her as Richard gave Millie an exasperated look, “Millie! For goodness sake, I’ll go get mine.” He retrieved an adrenaline pen from his briefcase and passed it to Millie, who administered it and immediately began to breathe more easily.

“You’ve got a death wish!”

Camille glared at Richard, probably thinking that he was being insensitive, “Are you okay now?” She asked in a soothing tone.

“I’m fine, sorry, Richard’s right I’m very irresponsible about what I eat. It’s not even the first time I’ve had to steal his adrenaline pen.”

Camille stood back up, “Why do you need an adrenaline pen?” Her tone was a bit accusatory, which took both Millie and Richard back a bit.

“Because I have an allergy?” he replied uncertainly.

“What to?” Camille asked taking a step towards him.

“Uh, Kiwi,” Richard answered, puzzled by Camille’s sudden change in mood.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” From her tone, Millie felt she might just be about to witness Hurricane Camille.

“Why would I need to?”

“What if you accidently ate some kiwi? How would we know how to help you?”

Richard’s voice took on a bit of an incredulous tone, “Well I’m very careful not to eat any Kiwi and I wouldn’t need your help anyway I’m perfectly capable of administering the pen myself. Why are you so angry?”

“I’m not angry!” Camille denied, clearly infuriated. “I just don’t think you should keep important information that could save your life from your colleagues. It’s so…so…British. I mean what next, will you be like Sister Anne pretending you don’t have cancer and getting treated in secret?”

Richard rolled his eyes, which Millie (who was wondering if they knew she was still their) felt wouldn’t help, “Well I promise if I get cancer I won’t hire a nurse to dress up as a police officer and treat me in secret.”

Millie really had no clue what to do, but she didn’t really want to miss the end of this fight. To the casual observer it seemed to have blown up out of nowhere, and now this nun angle had left her completely lost.

“That is not the point and you know it!” Camille raged. Maybe Millie would just get some fresh air…

 

 

Fidel and Dwayne found DC Peterson sitting on the bench outside of the station, looking perplexed whilst the raised voices of their superiors came from inside.

“Do they always fight like that?” she asked.

“The sergeant and the chief have a bit of a love-hate relationship,” Dwayne confirmed.

“What do you want, a copy of my bloody medical records?” They heard the inspector shout

“No, just some relevant information of stuff that might kill you?”

“Fine!” DI Poole shouted back at her. “I’m severely allergic to kiwi and I mustn’t go into an MRI scanner because I have a few pellets lodged in my hip bone from when I was shot.”

This was met by a brief moment of silence; however the dramatic pause was cut short by Dwayne asking from the door, “You were shot?”

For his trouble, he received a glare from both his superiors, “Sorry, was it a private conversation, it’s just we could hear you from the beach?”

“Sorry Sir, I never knew you’d been shot.” Fidel was clearly as curious as Dwayne, but wasn’t going to be as obvious about it.

“I remember when you were shot,” Millie said as she wondered back into the station. “Years ago, you hadn’t been in the service long. It was in the news. Mum and Dad got you a get well soon card and I signed it.”

“Yes, you did,” Richard confirmed, but nobody was going to be satisfied with that. “What?”

“Well aren’t you going to tell us how you got shot?” Camille asked.

Richard looked embarrassed, “It’s not that interesting.”

“He’s being modest,” Mille said smiling. “Let’s see if I can remember the details and you correct me if I am wrong Richard.” He rolled his eyes in response.

Millie put on her best story-telling voice, “Now our DI Poole was a mere constable at the time, responding to a domestic, assuming he would simply be dispersing an overzealous argument between a couple. However upon his arrival to the scene he discovered the husband with a shot gun pointed at his wife. Distracted by Constable Poole’s arrival, the husband turned the gun on Richard. Luckily Richard was able to disarm the husband, but the gun went off during the manoeuvre and grazed his hip with pellets when it did.”

Everyone looked back at Richard for confirmation, and he shrugged and said, “See, boring.”

“You probably saved that women’s life, Sir,” Fidel said, looking at him proudly.

Camille was looking at him softly, but still sounded quite annoyed when she said, “I don’t know why you can’t just tell us these things.”

Richard grabbed the used adrenaline pen, “If you’ll excuse me for five minutes I have to go get another adrenaline pen from the pharmacy before Camille uses her knew found knowledge of fruit that kills me to do just that.”

He brushed past Millie on his way out.

“You know,” Millie piped up in the moment of contemplative silence that followed. “If you want to know more about Richard I have a story or two…”


	5. Perfect Planning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not entirely happy with this chapter, but necessary to move the plot forward. Already have last three chapters written in my head not sure what to do with the day’s in-between when this chapter occurs and the final chapters. This contains spoilers for the pilot episode of Death in Paradise, though it seems terribly unlikely anyone would be reading this that hasn’t seen that.

Unfortunately for the team Millie refused to tell them anything unless Richard was there to defend himself.  Instead she decided to tell them as many embarrassing stories about herself as possible a) because it was only fair and b) so Richard couldn’t attempt to blackmail her into keeping silent.

“First off, my mother wanted to christen me Millie, but my father objected to the use of a nick-name as an official name. My mother, annoyed, christened me Millicent. Nobody ever calls me this, except my Dad, to annoy Mum.”

Millie was in the middle of telling the story about how she had arrested an undercover police officer (she was rapidly informed she wasn’t the only one round here who’d done that) when Camille’s phone had gone off. When Camille checked the message she laughed and explained, “Apparently Richard has been accosted by my mother who is plying him with tea and sympathy and he is begging us to come rescue him. Come on, we could all use some lunch.”

 

Camille easily spotted Richard in her mother’s bar, looking uncomfortable as he sat on a table piled high with a tea pot and plates of various kinds of food. She felt a bit guilty for briefing her mother on the situation, who seemed to have reacted to the news as though the murder had occurred yesterday and was now trying to feed Richard through his grief. This was a small island, and there was no way news such as this would stay secret forever. Her mother had taken one look at her this morning when she dropped in for a drink and to say good morning and known something was seriously bothering her, and she did not like to keep things from her mother.

“Scones!” Millie cried happily, picking one off a plate. She seemed to be the sort of woman who took pleasure in the little things. “Hello! I’m DC Millie Peterson.” She shook hands with Catherine, who was standing to allow her daughter to take her place next to Richard on the table.

“Enchantee,” She said to Millie. “I shall leave you to your police work, and cook you all some lunch.”

“No Kiwi, Maman. Richard is Allergic!” Camille called after her.

“You know if you tell the whole island that, somebody I annoy is going to use it against me,” Richard said as he passed Millie a new adrenaline pen.

“But it’s ok, because I know to save you,” Camille replied.

“I won’t need saving,” he said grumpily.

“So did being shot hurt, chief?” Dwayne was clearly not finished with the earlier revelation of the day.

“No, it was a terribly pleasant experience and every day that ends without me having been shot again is a day that also ends in disappointment,” He replied sarcastically. “Camille has been shot twice, why don’t you question her?”

“Because they’ve heard my story.”

“Well you know everything now anyway, so we can move on,” he said, exasperated. “You know, do some police work? Please?”

“Come on Chief, I bet you at least got a lot of attention from some pretty young nurses?” Dwayne punched him on the shoulder, and received disapproving looks from Camille and Fidel.

Richard was trying very hard not to look uncomfortable, which for some reason caused DC Peterson to burst into laughter, “I know that look! That’s the same look you used to have when my father questioned you about what you and Maddie got up to when you went out. There _was_ some pretty young nurse, wasn’t there?”

“It is neither relavent, nor your business!” He said, now seriously in a bad mood.

“Honestly it doesn’t surprise me. I reckon most constables date somebody in the medical profession, all that time we spend in hospitals dropping off drunks, picking up drunks, taking statements and being patched up ourselves,”  Said Millie.

“CAN WE DO SOME BLOODY POLICE WORK?” Richard shouted. Millie flinched the smallest amount, probably never having seen this side of him before. He actually shouted a lot less than when he first got here, and seemed to be in a constant state of frustration, and he actually remember to apologise when he did get annoyed. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Said Millie, pulling files out of her bag. She briefly fanned herself with one before placing it down between the scones and a bunch of grapes. “Man, who would have thought it possible to miss being cold, but two weeks in the Caribbean and I’m desperate to feel chilly again.”

“I know! Every time I read a story about travel in the UK breaking down completely because of a flurry of snow I feel a pang of nostalgia. Even the rain here isn’t the same...”

“I thought we were going to do some police work?” Camille interrupted, before Richard could go off on a full blown rant.

“Very well, let’s begin,” Millie’s voice took on a detached but professional tone, it was obvious she had learnt to compartmentalise. She opened the folder and placed a photograph of a young woman on the table, one that she, Richard and Camille already knew to be Madeline Peterson. Dwayne and Fidel shared a look with each other, communicating their shock over the similarities between the dead woman and her very much alive sister, but choose not to comment.

“Madeline Peterson, aged 23, was in the final year of her music degree at the University of Cambridge attached to St. Catherine’s college. Madeline was from Cambridge and lived at home, and as a consequence was still in the area during the Easter holidays in 1993,” Millie paused to remove another photograph, showing a pub, and a map with various locations marked on it. “On Thursday 8th of April Madeline Peterson went to The Castle pub, where she often performed on open mic nights and where a friend from school, Alison Fry, worked.”

Millie pointed out the location of the pub on the map, relative to where she and Madeline had grown up, “Whilst sitting at the bar, Madeline was approached by a semi-regular, Colin Boot. According to the bar maid he became pretty relentless in her pursuit of Madeline despite her initially polite and then increasingly adamant rejections of his advances. He’d come in with a group of friends, who were egging him on. Eventually the manager asked him to leave, and he did whilst being taunted by the group he had come with.”

Another photo was placed next to the map, this one a not exactly top quality image off a CCTV camera, “CCTV was relatively limited in Cambridge at the time, but knowing the route Madeline would have walked home which is marked on the map in blue, officers were able to find this image walking down the road having exited The Castle pub at 10:30 pm. Two minutes later it picks up Colin Boot heading in the same direction.“ Another photo added to the pile.

Camille turned to Richard, he looked pretty composed considering he was watching the events of his girlfriend’s murder unfold, “You’ve seen these images before?” She asked.

“I reviewed the file once.” He confirmed. “Do you think we could move on to the evidence against Mr Boot?” Millie had been about to recount the events of her sister’s death, but perhaps it was best that she miss out the finer details of the coroner’s report.

“The body was found hear, a little after midnight by a police patrol. She often used this park as the route she walked home. She’d been strangled. Her bag and earrings were missing but later found dumped in a nearby college garden. Colin Boot already had a police record for possession, theft and drunk and disorderly. A beat officer recognised him from the CCTV images and his fingerprints matched those recovered from the bag, and the body. One of the members of the group he’s been with admitted that when they left they’d seen Boot still hanging around outside the pub. It seemed to be an open and shut case.”

“So how did he elude arrest?” Fidel asked the obvious question.

Millie sighed, “Colin Boot’s father, Alexander Boot, was heavily involved in sex trafficking, but police had failed to collect enough evidence to arrest him – clearly the man was more intelligent than his son. If Boot Sr. can smuggle an estimated 150 women a year into the UK, getting one man out was hardly an issue for him.”

“They didn’t try to track him down?” Fidel asked, incredulous.

“The service can only invest so many resources before it becomes like throwing money into a black hole. They knew he’d committed the murder, they put him in the Interpol watch list, and that was all they could do,” Richard concluded.

There was a moment of silence, and as Millie returned the photographs and maps to her file Dwayne asked, “So how did you track him down to Barbados?”

“Oh I’m not that clever!” Said Millie, a little taken aback. “When Barbados police started investigating him for drug running they retrieved items from his bin for fingerprinting to get an ID. Knowing he was most likely British they sent the prints to the UK where they got a hit on our database. I had Colin Boot’s file tagged to email me with any updates.”

“And then you pulled in every favour owed to you and also used a heavy dose of your feminine wiles to get on a plane to Barbados,” added Richard.

“If you say so,” said Millie, but she did favour Dwayne with a wink.

“Why is he coming to the island?” asked Camille.

A much more recent photograph of boot was extracted from the file and passed around; though Camille noticed Richard barely glanced at it.

“Okay, so as mentioned Boot is now part of a drug smuggling ring and in 4 days he will fly to Guadeloupe, where he will catch a ferry to St Marie. We think he is there to monitor five individuals acting as drug mules. The plan will be to identify those mules and arrest them before getting on the boat, but allowing Boot to board without issue, so he’ll assume he is high and dry. As soon as he steps off the boat here, we can arrest him.”

“No,” Said Richard firmly. “Camille, Fidel and Dwayne can arrest him. You and I can watch, we can’t let anything go awry.”

Millie blinked a few times, “But you and I _will_ be there?” She asked for clarity.

“We will be there, and if you’re good I might even buy you lemonade afterwards. What boat will he arrive on?”

“The half four.”

“Well, nobody make any plans for Thursday at half four. Right if I’m quick I can get back to the station and call your Super before he goes home and assure him the situation is all in hand. Then I suppose I better talk to the commissioner.”

“Oh Richard can’t you stay and eat some lunch?” Camille complained.

“They want to hear about all of our misadventures, but I won’t tell them unless you’re here,” Millie added.

“This is all the more reason for me to leave. And if you think about telling them anyway, you should remember how I have a fair few stories about you up my sleeve,” Richard cautioned her as he stood from the table.

“Oh you mean like how her mother called her Millicent to annoy her father?” Camille asked playfully.

“Or how she walked into the police commissioner, spilling a cup of coffee down his shiny uniform, because she was so distracted by what she had just seen upon accidently entering the men’s locker room?” added Dwayne.

“Though she was interrupted before she could finish her story about arresting an undercover police officer,” concluded Fidel. Richard felt a little conspired against.

“Something you neglected to mention you have also done Richard,” Millie feigned hurt.

“Ah Yes!” he said wistfully. “The good old days when I didn’t know Camille was a police officer and I could just lock her up when she was annoying me…”

Camille threw a grape at him; he dodged it on the way out.

 


	6. Keep Living

Richard ended up spending the whole afternoon with the Commissioner. He had explained the situation with DC Peterson, gone through the plan for the actual apprehension of Boot and admitted he too had known Madeline when she was alive. The Commissioner was not satisfied with such a vague statement and had dragged the whole story out of him. He wanted to speak to Millie personally but otherwise felt the plan was sound. He then proceeded to insist Richard stay for dinner with his family.

He escaped around nine, arriving home to find Mille and Camille sitting on the porch of his bungalow chatting. A massive suitcase was also with them. As he got closer he realised that his lizard, well the lizard that lived in his shack with him, was sitting on Millie’s leg regarding her.

“Richard, Camille says your pet lizard doesn’t have a name!” Millie said by way of greeting.

He spared his DS a glance, “Or does it have a name you haven’t told me?” she asked him.

“It’s not my pet so why would I name it?”

Camille huffed and she and Millie shared a look. Clearly they were bonding; Richard suspected such a friendship would probably not be very good for his health.

“You love that lizard!” Camille argued.

“I do not _love_ the lizard.”

“You have books on how to look after it, I found you offering it multiple dishes of food and I could probably have you sectioned on the basis of the number of times I have caught you talking to it.”

Millie was tickling the lizard in question under the chin, “I can’t believe you would name your telescope but you couldn’t spare a moment to think of a name for poor Francis here.”

“Francis? Why Francis?”

“Because I don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl and Francis was the first unisex name I thought of,” Millie replied smartly.

“She’s a female,” Richard informed them.

Camille gave him a look, “I’m not sure I want to know how you found that out!”

“I sent off a piece of shed skin for DNA analysis,” Richard told her, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Yes, of course you had your lizard’s DNA tested, because you hate it so much…”

“I didn’t say I hated it!” He interrupted her. “I just don’t love it as much as you imply. Why do you have a case with you?”

The attempt to change the topic was hardly subtle. Millie stiffened ever so slightly and Francis the newly named lizard seemed to sense trouble was imminent and scampered off her new friend’s knee back under the crack between the door and the floor.

“Well,” she began cautiously. “I wasn’t able to use my feminine wiles, as you say, to get a great deal of expenses for this trip, and with the flights and all the time I spent of Barbados...”

“You’re out of money,” Richard finished bluntly.

She nodded, looking a little ashamed, “Can I stay here?”

“Well I’m not going to make you sleep on the beach, am I?” He opened the door. “Go on, you take the bed I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

Millie grabbed her case, kissing him on the cheek as she wheeled it past and into the house, leaving Richard and Camille alone on the porch.

“I did offer to let her stay with me but she seems quite keen to spend some time with you,” Camille told him.

“I find the idea of anyone being keen to spend time with me very improbable.”

Camille shook her head, “You’re always doing that.”

“What?”

“Being self-deprecating,” Camille explained. “Millie was clearly very fond of you when she was younger. I know the person she knew and the person you are now are separated by time and certain events but you are still the same person. I think she’s a good judge of character, and knows who you are apart from the brilliant but downright grumpy police officer.”

“I know. She’s going to completely ruin my reputation and reveal me to actually be human,” he smiled shyly.

“It’s ok, Sir” Said Camille, returning his smile. “I’ve always had my suspicions. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He knew he shouldn’t but he watched her walk away, only to find when he finally turned back to the shack that Millie was watching him with a grin on her face, “What?”

“Beer?” was her only answer.

“Why not?”

 

 

They sat outside with the beers, where it was cooler than the house that had been shut up all day. Through the first beer Millie talked about nothing-things, whilst Richard panicked quietly any number of topics he might broach that he did not want to talk about.

“Do you really not want them to know about all our misadventures?” She asked when she passed him the second bottle.

“I’m their boss they aren’t supposed to know my entire life history!”

“It’s not because they’re too painful? The memories?” she asked gently.

“Millie stop worrying. All of the time I spent with Madeline, with you, it’s very, ah, dear to me,” he paused, awkward. “I wouldn’t change it. Even knowing what happens. And didn’t we already have this conversation a long time ago?”

“Yes, and that’s very sweet. I just wanted to make sure I was right and you have absolutely no valid excuse for not sitting down with your team and me and recounting the punting trip,” she said cheekily.

“I already told you my reasons!” he argued back.

“It’s not going to stop them respecting you if they know you had a life before you were a police officer! I didn’t stop liking you because you have had a life after Madeline,” she could argue back with the best of them.

Richard was silent for a moment, scrabbling around in his own head to try to come up with the right way to broach the next topic, “Listen, Millie, earlier with that…nurse…thing…I just want you to know…”

“OH MY GOD!” She interrupted him, suddenly furious. “I’m not pissed about that. You are allowed to continue living, fall in love with other people. I don’t want you moping around out of respect for Madeline because I don’t think that’s actually very respectful at all. So, on behalf of me dead sister, I grant you permission to keep living.”

“Millie!” Richard said, angry. “I know that she was your sister but I loved her to, so don’t you dare tell me I’m not being respectful to her memory!”

Millie deflated, “I’m sorry. You know I have a temper. I’m just…I’m sorry. I should never presume that I know any better what Madeline would have wanted more than you would.”

“Well first off I reckon she’d want to be alive. Sit down and we’ll forget about.”

“Okay, well you should know then that _I don’t_ have a problem with you moving on and it wouldn’t make me uncomfortable to hear about it, which is what I think you were actually concerned about.” She told him, a lot calmer, though she could use a third beer. “In fact, being a bit of a romantic, I thoroughly approve of you being in love with somebody as wildly inappropriate as your DS.”

“What?” He said loudly, putting his beer bottle down on the table.” “I am _not_ in love with my DS!”

Millie raised her eyebrows at him, “I studied cognitive neuroscience at Nottingham you know.”

“Well clearly not hard enough because in this case you are wrong.”

Millie just continued to look at him, “You are wrong.” He denied again.

“You aren’t going to deny she’s attractive as well, are you?”

“Millie!” he complained. “Is this some sort of experiment to see how uncomfortable you can make me?”

“Of course not, it’s just a question.”

“She’s very beautiful, are you happy? Can we move on?”

“Hey, team dynamics are very important. I’m just enquiring how you handle working with a gorgeous, feisty French woman who’s a constant challenge to you.”

“We work together just fine, thank you for asking.”

“Yeah you do,” Millie said grinning. “I’ve seen your case closure rate.” She watched him for a few moments more, trying to wait him out, but he just finished his beer and stood.

“I think I better get some sleep,” he said.

Millie shook her head, defeated, “Man I was sure I’d get you to admit it.”

“Like I said,” he told her. “Clearly you didn’t study hard enough.”

 

 


	7. Revelation

Over the next few days, Millie attempted to make herself useful. There were thankfully no murders, but they did get wind of some illegal money lending. Millie collated data and put in a few phone calls to London to get ID’s sorted. She also gave an off the cuff seminar about dealing with bereaved families to the ever keen Fidel, and Richard may even have made a few notes whilst pretending to do paperwork.

But for every useful thing she did, Camille hadn’t failed to notice she was also very good at causing distractions. Her suitcase proved to contain even more “English delights”. When she had arrived to pick up her boss the next morning she’d found him eating semolina pudding out of a tin. She’d gamely tried a spoonful, and he had laughed at the expression on her face when she tried not to spit it back out.

“Quite often served in schools for desert,” Richard had explained to her.

“Do the English not like their children?” had been her reply.

Camille would admit to rather enjoying the biscuit dunking competition that has ensued between herself, Millie, Dwayne and Fidel after Millie had tried to explain the proper technique to Dwayne. Eventually it had gotten on Richard’s nerves and he’d confiscated the biscuits.

DC Peterson’s presence made everyone a little off balance. In those three days she hung about the station, she didn’t think she’d ever seen her boss so relaxed, and the murderer of the apparent love of his life was rapidly approaching the island – normally something that would induce stress. Sometimes Millie would lean in and tell him something in a low voice and he’d actually smile at her, a genuine smile and the kind he so rarely gave to her. That might be for the best though; when he did she’d noticed her stomach flipped in response. She wasn’t going to bother being in denial, a part of her hated the fact that Millie knew Richard Poole better than she did.

“Have you ever been in love?” She’d once asked him cheekily. Now she knew the answer. Now the question was could he ever be in love again. Think about it, what woman could compare in his head, his heart, to the never-aging tragically murdered lover.

Great, thought Camille, now I’m jealous of a dead woman. She’d been staring at him during this entire train of thought, and was relieved that he hadn’t looked up and caught her. Millie, on the other hand, was watching her. She smiled when she caught her eye. Tomorrow they’d be arresting a killer, DC Millie Peterson would leave, and Richard would probably go back to his normal levels of pompousness and arrogance.

But it didn’t feel like it would be the same. God, what was wrong with her? This was Richard Poole! The most English person she had ever met, rude to the point of her wanting to strangle him on occasion but, oh no, she had to decide he was just guarded. That he had walls up she simply had to keep pushing against, so she teased him and questioned him and ended up liking what she heard.

She let out far too heartfelt a sigh considering she was surrounded by her colleagues. Richard glanced up from his work, but she just shook her head wearily, feigning tiredness.

Millie stood rather suddenly, “I’d like to go down to the ferry terminus, walk the staging area before tomorrow.”

Richard regarded her for a moment, “Do you want some company?” He asked reaching for his jacket.

“Yes, Camille would you join me?” Both she and Richard were startled by the question, and Camille looked at the Inspector who just shrugged and nodded his permission if she wanted to go.

“Okay,” she agreed.

 

Millie stood and looked out at the bustling port. On the way she’d asked questions about Camille’s time in Guadeloupe and Paris. Camille had a feeling that Millie was constantly analysing people, building up her own psychological profile. If she wasn’t a police officer, she’d probably be a great con artist. It was obvious Richard felt similarly, she’d over heard him tell Millie he was glad she was on their side when they returned from their meeting with the Commissioner, a man now on the list of people charmed by DC Millie Peterson.

“When Richard first contacted me, I shouted at him for over 2 hours,” Millie spoke up suddenly. “I would have gone there and done it in person, but I wasn’t in The Met at the time I was in Cambridgeshire Police. I was so pissed off with him. I felt like he’d just put me aside when Madeline died, I was back to being that kid who ended up losing two people not one. There was this memorial concert a year after Maddie died, I saw him there and he barely acknowledged me.”

“I’m sure he never meant to hurt you,” Camille said to her – and she was sure.

“Oh I know,” Millie continued. “He let me call him all these God-awful things and then explained his reasoning, however flawed, was that he thought it would help me move on. I believe I then proceeded to give me a lecture on child psychology. Then I forgave him, because for some reason he’s really hard to stay mad at. I think it’s because he’s so stubborn that when he apologies you realise how sincere it is.”

Camille smiled, “The first time he apologised to me for something I was lost for words.”

“Do I want to know what he did?”

“Ran away when we turned the lights out to bring in his cake and sing happy birthday.”

“Ha! That sounds like him. Madeline used to say he grew up on the periphery, so hated being centre of attention. She was always trying to force him into the spotlight; I think it’s good for him, I rather think you are as well.”

Camille felt a rush of confused emotions at this statement, and Millie seemed to realise what her statement implied.

“Oh sorry, I’m not trying to compare you to Madeline that wouldn’t be right. I don’t think Richard would ever do that either. I mean she was feisty and gorgeous as well but otherwise you’re quite different.”

Camille was now at the point where she just wanted this to be over, “Look, if you’re implying there is something going on between the Inspector and I well there isn’t, we’re just colleagues and friends.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” Said Millie dismissively. “So as his friend as well, I’m saying, look after him when he’s gone will you? When I moved to The Met, Richard kept finding ways to put off meeting up. At first I thought he was busy, then just anti-social. But then I heard talk and I realised his colleagues back in London they didn’t…get him. He struggled. I think he genuinely worried I’d be stained by association with him, so he avoided me. Of course now case closure rates have fallen 30% most of his colleagues are kicking themselves, I know I got seconded to Croydon during a series of murders.”

She smiled in satisfaction, and Camille felt that same surge of pride she got when she saw Richard close a case, she loved the fact he was there’s now.

“You guys, I think you don’t always get him, but a bit like a family you are willing to put up with him. You’re protective of him and I’m just…I’m glad. I know he cares about you to.”

There were clearly layers to that statement, and Camille wished they were speaking French so she’d know if Millie had been using the singular or plural you, as the last part of what she said had felt rather directed at Camille.

What the hell, why not be her usual abrupt self? “Did he say anything to you? About…the team?” Okay maybe not 100% upfront.

“I’ll admit we had a pretty revealing conversation about you,” Still unclear if it was the plural or the singular. “I was very interested in your team dynamics.”

“They are pretty unique,” conceded Camille.

“It’s funny, I tried to weasel all this information out of him and he thought he was so smart that he didn’t admit to anything – but it was his comeback that gave it all away.”

“I’m sorry but I don’t follow you.”

“That would be my fault; I’m still not sure what to tell you. He so often does the wrong thing for the right reasons, like when he cut himself off from me after Madeline’s death. I’m not sure it’s a habit he’s broken.”

Camille was getting increasingly frustrated. Millie seemed to cause as many emotional rollercoasters as she experienced herself in the course of a day. Now she was standing here, staring off into the middle distance moodily, attempting to decide what she felt it was right for Camille to know. Personally, Camille was a little tempted to push her into the harbour.

“OH JUST BLOODY TELL ME!” She suddenly exploded.

Millie startled and then grinned; “Bloody tell you?” she quoted. “Oh my God you’ve spent too much time with that man.  Felt like you were channelling him there for a second.”

Truth be told, so did Camille, but there was no way she was admitting that out loud. So she just put her hands on her hips and gave Millie her best glare, normally reserved for Richard when he was at his most annoying. However this seemed to amuse Millie further.

“Oh yes, I like you, you are definitely good for him. So I was teasing him about rather liking you, saying I could tell thanks for my Cognitive Neuroscience degree, but he denied everything. At the end of the evening when I bemoaned the fact I hadn’t got him to admit anything do you know what he said?”

“What?”

“You clearly didn’t study hard enough,” Millie announced dramatically. “Oh! Ice cream!”

As Millie wondered off to order a cone, Camille wondered if the woman was actually all there. I mean what sort of great revelation was that? She’d been hoping for something a little more straightforward than ‘you clearly didn’t study hard enough’. I mean it was typical Richard, bragging about not having admitted to anything under duress…oh… _oh._

He’d bragged about not admitting to anything.

There was something to admit.

 

 

 

 


	8. Evening

 

“I believe I should buy you all a drink,” Millie declared as she walked back into the station. Richard looked up at her and could see she was fizzing with excitement, knowing her purpose here was nearly over.

 

Behind her Camille looked contemplative, perhaps even worried, and Richard couldn’t help but wonder what had been going on between the two of them. Okay, it’s all he’d been thinking about since they left.

 

Millie misinterpreted his silence for disapproval, “I’m not suggesting we all get drunk before apprehending a murderer Richard. But I should be going home tomorrow and don’t you want to say Bon Voyage?”

 

“Of course, come on then,” Richard grabbed his jacket and motioned for everyone to follow suit. Okay?” he asked Camille quietly as he passed her. She nodded and smiled distractedly.

 

“Richard do you ever use that boat?” Millie had asked him in an offhand manner as they walked to

Catherine’s bar, but Richard wasn’t being fooled.

 

“I know where this is going Millie.”

 

“Come on! It’s a BRILLIANT story!” She begged.

 

At this Camille, finally seemed to come out of the reverie she’d been in, and looked up excitedly, “What’s a brilliant story?”

 

Damn him, if he didn’t want to keep that smile on her face. He had something seriously wrong with him, he was sure of it.

 

“Fine! Tell them!” he said shortly, feigning his normal grumpiness.

 

“ _We_ should tell them,” said Millie expressively.

 

He sighed in an exaggerated manner but she just bumped his shoulder playfully as she sat down beside him at the bar. He gave her a half grin and communicated just how much she would owe him for this, but she didn’t back down.

 

“Okay, so Millie begged us to go punting…”

 

“What is punting?” Dwayne interrupted almost immediately.

 

“It’s like what they do in Venice,” Millie clarified. “But better because it’s Cambridge.”

 

“So like gondolas?” Camille asked for confirmation.

 

“Yes but they’re called punts,” Richard told her.

 

“Why do you have a different name for them? Can’t you just call them what they are,” Camille had asked playfully.

 

“Because what they are is _PUNTS_. Now do you want to hear this story or should we debate boat nomenclature some more?”

 

Camille held up her hands in defeat, after shooting her one more warning look Richard continued, “Millie begged to go punting with Madeline and I, but I wasn’t keen on the idea due to some more, negative, experiences in school.”

 

“He means he used to get pushed in a lot.” This time the warning look was shot at Mille

 

“Anyway ten year olds are very persistent in their requests and eventually Madeline joined in and I didn’t really have a chance. And no, we couldn’t go on an organized tour, we had to hire the punt and do it ourselves.”

 

“Well that looked much more fun…” Mille tried to defend her ten-year old safe.

 

“But not easier! We were doing fine until this one,” he nudged the woman next to him. “Decided she wanted a go at actually pushing the boat along.”

 

“What child wouldn’t?”

 

“So I have images of her falling into the Cam and being eaten by a previously unknown killer pike or some equally disastrous accident but Madeline is all for letting her have a go despite Millie’s absolute death wish demonstrated on several occasions. “

 

“So I stand up gamely on the till of the punt, which is the flat bit where you propel it along with a big pole,” Mille took up telling the story. “And he’s trying to keep one hand on the back of my shirt to stop me falling off whilst the other hand is on the pole and he’s trying to explain how to push the thing along. I, of course, reckon I can do all this without any help. So I grab the pole off him rather forcefully and well…” Millie began to try and stifle her giggles.

 

“Oh no, you fell in the river?” Camille asked, almost sympathetic if it weren’t for the massive grin on her face.

 

“I bloody wish! It was a lovely day and loads of people were on the river. I end up falling straight into the boat of a loved up couple and Millie here decides to drop the pole into the river. So now they are drifting away without any form of propulsion and I’m stuck apologizing to the young couple whose proposal I’d just interrupted. Madeline and Millie are just in hysterics at this point, whilst I’m worrying I’m going to get punched because I apparently knocked the ring out of the bloke’s hand and now it is lying at the bottom on the Cam with the bloody pole for the punt.”

 

Dwayne was trying not to have hysterics of her own, whilst Camille had decided to cover her mouth with her hand to hide her massive smile and pretend she was concerned.

 

“So how does this story end then?” She asked.

 

Richard and Millie shared a look, “Maddie saved the day, as always.”

 

Richard continued, “Hitched up her skirt, jumped into the river and retrieved the pole and the ring from the bottom, then dragged the punt over so I could climb back in, congratulated the young couple on their engagement and got back in soaked and acting like she’d done nothing unusual.”

 

“She made me use my pocket money to buy ice cream later whilst she lay in the sunshine trying to dry out before we went home. That was my punishment. Richard swore he would never get in any form of boat again.”

 

“But you did!” Said Camille brightly, and Mille turned to look at him.

 

“Ah, so you have used that boat despite what I remember to be a very fervent conviction that you would not?”

 

Richard took a sip of beer to cover his embarrassment, “You try telling Camille no,” he replied in a low voice.

 

Camille threw her head back and laughed, a joyful, fancy-free sound that caused him to flashback to the way Madeline had laughed, the sense of satisfaction he’d gotten from amusing her, how he thought he’d never feel like that again and the undeniable twinge of guilt knowing he did. Apparently he wasn’t doing a good job of hiding his emotions, as Millie had grabbed his hand under the table to draw his attention back to her.

 

“You going to miss me?” She asked, trying to distract him.

 

“You know that’s a hard question to answer,” he said.

 

“Sir!” Camille said reprovingly.

 

“Hey, she hasn’t been at your place every morning playing god awful music, singing along completely out of tune and trying to force you to have green tea with your breakfast as she lectures you on its health benefits. Not to mention stealing all my sun block, constantly nagging me about my personal life and using my laptop every evening to illegally download the programs she is missing in the UK. I’m just saying the list of things I’ll miss is probably as long as the ones I won’t…”

 

Millie huffed but instantly decided on his punishment. She headed off to chat to Catherine, and a few moments later Richard recognized her electro pop and indie rock playlist, two genres of music he could very much live without thank you very much, begin to play in the bar. He put his head in his hands. Fidel and Dwayne had joined Millie who had decided to start her own dance party in the bar, so only Camille remained to witness his pain.

 

“Oh come on you will miss her,” she told him. “Days I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy.”

 

“I was keeping up appearances to be polite,” he said, but he didn’t believe it and nor did Camille. “Oh God…”

 

Millie was coming over looking intent, and Camille decided to give Richard a break and intercept her.

 

“As fun as tormenting him is, if you’re intending to make him dance you haven’t got a hope in heaven’s chance,” Camille said into Millie’s ear, the music was very loud.

 

“Oh but it’s you he apparently can’t say no to!” she replied, grinning.

 

“If it’s a slow song I might be able to get him off that chair for a few minutes,” Camille agreed.

 

“Oh well you leave that to me,” She leaned to the side to look past Camille at Richard, intending to give him a little wave, but the man was gone. Camille noticed the confused look on her face and turned to reach the same conclusion.

 

“Man is like a ninja when he wants to escape,” she complained to Millie. “I’ll find him; you enjoy your last night on Saint Marie.”

 

* * *

 

He was sitting on the bench outside the station.

 

“I know, I’m sorry, it was rude and I’m rubbish at the whole emotion thing,” he said before she could open her mouth. “And also I couldn’t stand another evening of that music.”

 

Camille crossed her arms and looked at him, “I’m not annoyed with you.”

 

He looked surprised, “You aren’t?”

 

“No, I think it’s only natural you’d want a bit of space. And if you want me to go away I will, I just thought you might like some company somewhere a bit quieter.”

 

Richard looked a little confused and then stared at the floor.

 

Camille rolled her eyes, “Of course I’d love some company Camille, thank you for offering to sit out here with me…”

 

“Oh, yes, please sit down,” Richard said realizing his mistake.

 

Camille sat down next to him and then proceeded to hunt around for something appropriate to say. She thought this was probably how Richard felt all the time.

 

“You know you might think I’m better at expressing my emotions than you but I really don’t know what to say,” she admitted.

 

He gave her half a smile, “Welcome to my world.” He looked back down. “I mean, it’s not all about, well what I mean is, I don’t think saying things are all that, uh, necessary because I appreciate…everything.”

 

“Thank you…I think.” Camille added, and they shared another smile. “I actually really admire the way you and Millie have dealt with this; I think we both know I couldn’t have managed as well.”

 

“Nonsense. We’re only coping because we’re constantly drunk; it’s how the English deal with such matters.” Camille looked alarmed and Richard shook his head, mildly frustrated, “I’m joking.”

 

“I knew that,” Camille said a little too quickly. “How do you feel about tomorrow?” she ventured.

 

“I don’t know, apprehensive I suppose, I’ll be so glad when it’s all over. I spend most of the time worrying about how Millie will take it and worrying how I will. Promise you won’t be gentle with the cuffs?” Richard asked her, half smile on his face.

 

“I think if any of us can find an excuse to take him down hard, we will,” Camille confirmed for him. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. And Millie is tough, she needs this though.”

 

He was still looking at her, rather intensely, and Camille started to feel a little flustered. Apparently she had defiantly swapped places with Richard emotionally because she had no idea where to look or what to say again. She decided to revert to the shoulder patting that had served her well so far. She then used the hand on his shoulder to turn him towards her, her other hand coming to rest over his heart.

 

“Everything will be ok” she told him, but she didn’t know if he heard her because she was so distracted by the way he was looking at her. At the moment fires could have burst into life, bombs exploded and cars crashed just a few feet away and she wouldn’t have noticed because she was too busy feeling like a teenage girl again.

 

“Your heart is racing,” She managed to breath out.

 

“I know,” he replied, and Camille cursed him for his steady voice, and the fact he didn’t look away from her. Instead, before Camille could engage her brain enough to say something else, he took hold of her hand from his heart and she found herself moving slightly forward. “You are fantastic you know.”

“Yeah,” she said quietly, grinning. “Willing to admit you’d be lost without me?”

 

“I feel a bit lost whenever you’re with me, actually...”

 

Before Camille could decide that meant what she thought he meant his hand was on her face and he was kissing her and she was a very good kind of lost. Her hands went back to his shoulders to try and pull him closer as she kissed him back, but then a very stupid part of her brain that she didn’t like kicked in and told her to break it off, that he was rather vulnerable right now and wouldn’t she rather kiss him without the ghost of his dead girlfriend hanging around?

 

So she pulled back, and managed to get enough to say, “Richard, wait…” before he decided to take it completely the wrong way.

He stood and turned from her with like she was on fire, and said, “Oh God, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have done that.”

 

“Richard…” she began again, but he wasn’t having any of it.

 

He still wouldn’t look at her, “I’m sorry, seriously, it’s just with everything, I know, it’s not right and you have every right to complain…”

 

“Complain! I’m not going to… _Richard_ ”

 

He stilled slightly, “We have to get through tomorrow and Camille, I shouldn’t have done that and I’m sorry and I should really just go.”

 

And he did, heading off into the night, leaving her shouting his name after him and feeling that very bad kind of lost. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I added the proposal for drama, but the whole falling into another persons boat and drifting away from your own has happened on the Cam, my friend told me!


	9. Awkward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be the penultimate chapter but I struggled with it so it's been split.

Camille was at a complete loss, he’d said Good Morning when he’d walked into the office, but he would not look at her. Oddly, Millie was not with him, and her enquiries were met with the brief reply that she’d gone to brief the harbour master before the arrest that afternoon. The morning was clearly going to drag of this continued, and Dwayne and Fidel were giving her looks that indicated they were not ignorant of the tension in the room.

After about an hour she managed to corner him, “Please will you just look at me?”

He did manage it, even if just for a second, “We just have to get through today, Camille. Can we just get through today?” His voice was desperate, and she knew she’d concede to his request.

“Yes,” she told him, but continued firmly, “I don’t regret it and we aren’t done. We _will_ talk about this.”

He did nod in response, but didn’t look at her. She tried to push aside how much that hurt, because they did have a task to complete.

 

* * *

 

Millie arrived around one, breezing in all business though dressed the opposite. She’s swapped the blouse and smart trousers she normally wore for a short pink skirt and strappy top. She looked every inch the holidaymaker, except for the look of determination on her face and the fire in her eyes.

“Is everything set with you all?” She asked brusquely.

Nobody spoke fast enough to hide the awkwardness, though Fidel tried, “The ferry is set to leave on time and Guadeloupe have confirmed that Colin Boot has arrived and seems to have no indication of what is to come.”

Millie looked between Richard and Camille, who both *attempted not* to look at her. *Compleatly Failed*?

“Can I talk to the two of you outside please?” She may have been junior to both of the officers she spoke to, but the question was an order and not a request.

Richard followed her meekly outside, whilst Camille paused to try to look reassuringly at Dwayne and Fidel before she joined them.

“What is going on? You two can’t even look at each other.” She glared at the two of them, Richard stared resolutely at the floor but Camille managed to meet her eye.

“We’ll be fine, we have some… issues…to discuss but it’s not the time and the place right now.”

“Fine? I hardly think so.” Millie was trying to hold in her anger and failing. She turned to Richard and grabbed him by the arm. “I don’t know what has happened but I won’t have it mess this up. I _need_ this, you might have been able to largely move on but I NEED THIS.”

Richard let out a long breath and looked at her, “I know, I’m sorry, it’ll be okay.”

Millie shook her head, too desperate for the closure of today to be forgiving, “This is a distraction. We can’t have distractions. You’re the one who said it had to go off without a hitch.”

Camille crossed her arms, confused as to how to fix this. She resisted the urge to kick something, or someone - anything to rid herself of this frustration.

“What do you want Millie?” She asked her eventually, knowing who called the shots.

DC Peterson looked between the two of them before her gaze landed on Richard, “I think you should stay here.”

Richard shrugged one shoulder, “You’re probably right.”

“What?” exclaimed Camille, amazed at his acquiescence. “This isn’t going to affect anything…” she trailed off, because she knew it wasn’t true.

“I can’t have him distracted and since you have to carry out the arrest I most definately can’t have you distracted,” Millie told her firmly. “It’s decided.”

She breezed past them into the station and started to confirm information about the customs process for the ferries with Dwayne and Fidel. Richard and Camille were left outside, still stuck under some sort of spell that prevented them from just hashing the entire thing out and being done with it.

Richard opened his mouth to speak but Camille cut him off, “I swear to God, Richard choose what comes out of your mouth carefully because if it’s any form of apology I am going to kick you.”

“Just keep an eye on Millie, please,” he told her, he went to go back into the station but she reached out and caught his hand.

“You should go, I haven’t slept, I’m completely useless and Dwayne and Fidel will handle the arrest fine. Plus you’re right, Millie needs somebody to keep an eye on her and it makes much more sense that it is you rather than me.”

He squeezed her hand, briefly, and Camille felt for the first time there might just be a touch of hope in this great big beautiful mess they’d made.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

She mentally shook herself, and walked into the station a professional, “I’ll remain here, DC Peterson, liaise with Barbados police they wanted to know the details of the arrest. Fidel and Dwayne will arrest Mr Boot and you and the Inspector can be there to provide advice and assistance. Are we agreed?”

Millie gave a single nod, “In that case Richard you need to come with me and change. You look like a cop. Having two uniforms probably won’t trigger any suspicion but you stick out too much. We’ll see you at the ferry terminus at 15:00.”

Richard wore a rather startled look, but allowed himself to be dragged off my Millie. Dwayne came over and nudged Camille, offering his support.

All Camille had to do was wait.

 

* * *

 

Richard hoped if he acted meekly enough Millie might not kill him. Okay, maybe he didn’t actually have to _act_ meek. She was tearing through all his clothes trying to find something that made him look less like a cop and more like a tourist or native. Eventually she found a pair of jeans, and made him loose the tie and jacket.

“Are you sure this is necessary?” he complained but Millie glared and he didn’t push the issue any further.

“Sit,” She ordered once he was changed. “I’m pissed off; I think that much is obvious. But we’ve got an hour until we need to get down to that port and be in position. So I’m going to try really, _really_ , hard to control my temper for the next hour and I want you to tell me what the hell stupid thing you or she did that had led to this!”

“Is that you controlling your temper because if it is…”

“RICHARD!” She interrupted his acerbic question. “Who messed up?”

He sighed deeply, “I did. I kissed her, like some stupid teenage boy.”

Millie blinked, actually lost for words. She’d just assumed they’d had a particularly vicious fight, that he’d gone and said something stupid or sincere but taken in the wrong way by the DS.

“Well that seems to have tempered you a little,” Richard seemed a little smug. “I suppose you assumed I’d never do anything about it, I suppose I assumed the same.”

Millie decided to attempt to form a coherent sentence, “So what happened after you kissed her?”

Richard was staring awkwardly at the floor, a not unexpected behaviour, and Millie prodded him for an answer, “She pushed me off, of course she did, I was stupid to think anything else would happen.”

“She did?” Millie questions. Richard just nodded in response.

“At what point exactly…?” She stopped there when Richard gave her a look that said he didn’t want to be questioned further. “Hey! I’m the psychologist, I think we know you aren’t going to figure out a way to fix this on your own but I actually have a chance. But I need to analyse it, like I would a case, so these details are important. Did she kiss you back?”

“She probably just felt sorry for me, she’s nice like that.”

“Okay, so that’s a yes, meaning congratulations Richard you did not do the stupid thing, she did.”

“I haven’t the foggiest what you’re on about,” he told her honestly. “But I’m certain I’m in the wrong.”

“That is because you sometimes have the emotional intelligence of a brain-damaged frog. I would put money on the fact that she thought that _she_ was taking advantage of _you_. You’ll fix this, later, once we’ve got our man and got some closure...”

“I really hope so.”

“And I know so.”

 


	10. Terminus

Camille was having a very dramatic argument with herself. One part of her was saying to stay exactly where she was, sitting at her desk staring down her phone and waiting for news. The other half was telling her to screw her earlier decision and go down to the ferry terminus right now. It didn’t matter both the car and bike was gone, she could always get a taxi – could probably run there if necessary.

The phone rang, but it was at least 39 minutes earlier than she expected it to.

She answered it greedily anyway.

 

* * *

 

Richard couldn’t help but notice that Millie looked sick. She’d been a bit pale ever since their arrival at the terminus, but as they both watched from the waiting room as the ship gradually came closer she’d gone from a bit peaky to practically green. The boat had begun the docking process, Dwayne and Fidel standing where the gangplank would be lowered and passengers exit. Passengers leaned against the railings, some waving to relatives or friends and others staring further into the distance, probably first time visitors admiring the long extinct volcano and the jungles on its slope. One or two looked as sick as Millie, though probably for a different reason.

Before Richard could ask if she wanted to sit down or have a glass of water or something, Millie’s features hardened and she said, “I see him.”

She walked straight out of the waiting area, which was not what they had agreed, and Richard followed her closely. Following her gaze he saw Colin Boot’s profile, smoking a cigarette and looking aggrieved – probably due to all his drug mules having been arrested. He caught Dwayne’s eye but the officers already had him in their sights, and Richard’s heart rate fell ever so slightly – he trusted them to get this done.

A sideways glance back up revealed Boot to now be taking a phone call, and he turned to Millie who was still hadn’t taken her eyes off the man to suggest they head back in. However she stiffened suddenly and let out a quiet curse. Richard looked up and Boot was no longer there. He assumed that was Millie’s concern.

“He’s probably just gone to prepare to disembark,” he reassured her.

Millie was breathing very fast and looked to be thinking very hard, “He made me Richard.”

“What?”

“He saw me and he recognised me. He knows we’re here for him!” The panic in her voice was evident, as she started to move towards Dwayne and Fidel who were also scanning the boat for any sign of their target.

“He’s never seen you before how could he know that?” Richard tried to reason with her.

Millie turned violently towards him, “Uh, do you remember the reaction you had to me?”

Richard repeated the expletive Millie had used early, “Dwayne, Fidel, he knows something is up. We’ve got to get eyes on him again.”

 

* * *

 

Camille was no longer angry with herself, now her anger was directed at a member of the Barbados police force. She tried to repeat the manta ‘don’t kill the messenger’ as she posed the question, “You’re telling me your informant is dead?”

“We began carrying out the raids an hour ago, two were successful but when we broke into where we assumed the gang leaders would be our luck ran out,” The background noise was horrendous, and Camille assumed the officer was calling from the scene. “All we got was the body of a CI. There is a very good chance they’ll get a message through to Boot, and he’s going to be expecting you.”

“I have to call my superior now.”

“Wait, DS Bordey, there is a discovery we made at Boot’s place of residence you need to know about.”

 

* * *

 

The gangplank was being lowered into place. What choice did they have but to allow the passengers off as normal? There weren’t enough of them to secure the boat and retrieve him from it. They’d assumed he was holed up inside, that was until they heard the scream. An elderly woman fell past them into the harbour, Richard’s eyes went back to where she’d fallen from and he caught sight of Boot retreating, clearly having decided to cause a distraction to enable his escape.

The ever courageous Fidel and Dwayne had dived straight into the water to aid the clearly injured and struggling woman. And Millie, Millie was running up the gangplank, not even fully secured, intent on only one thing. He followed.

 

* * *

 

Camille had decided running would take as long as a taxi. She considered commandeering somebody else’s vehicle, but she was in her stride now. She was trying to call Fidel, but it wouldn’t connect – she wasn’t to know he and Dwayne had just submerged their phones rendering them useless.

She scrolled through and rang Richard. In the distance she saw the terminus.

 

* * *

 

It is very difficult to answer a mobile phone whilst negotiating the sorts of narrow staircases and ladders that fill the bowels of the ship, whilst trying to keep within in at least eye shot of a much younger detective constable to who was determined on hunting down the killer of her sister. A brief glace at the screen showed it to be Camille. He’d kill her if this wasn’t important.

“Bit awkward right now Camille!” He gasped, nearly tripping down the last step.

“He knows!” Camille shouted at him down the phone, oddly sounding as out of breath as he did.

“I know he knows, how do you know he knows?” Richard dropped to a whisper; he assumed they were in the engine room but he had lost sight of both their quarry and Millie. A scuffle gave him a clue and he cautiously headed in that direction.

 

* * *

 

At the other end of the line, Camille had come to a halt; having reached the terminus she searched the excited crowds for Richard or anyone else. The atmosphere gave away that something had gone wrong. She saw a larger group of people and between their legs saw the blue shirt of the police uniform and headed that way.

“Barbados police called. Why are you whispering?”

“Because right now I’m in some positively out of bounds area of the ship trying to find Millie before she does something stupid. Hang on.”

Camille had reached Dwayne and Fidel, she already knew from what Richard had said he and Millie weren’t with them, and she felt sick at the thought.

“Richard listen to me…” She paused, because at the other end of the line she heard a male voice that was not Richard’s. One telling him to put the phone down. The line went dead.

 

* * *

 

When he wrote up his report, _if_ he wrote up his report, Richard was not going to be able to say the arrest went without a hitch. He’d rounded a corner to stumble upon another man holding a gun on a woman, except this time he didn’t see a way to disarm the situation. Boot had a furious Millie in a tight grip. He was armed.

“Kick the phone over here,” he stated. Richard did as instructed, having no desire to escalate the situation. He hadn’t done much hostage negotiation training but that sounded about the right sort of attitude.

Boot grinned a little wildly, “I could feel this one’s eyes on me.” He indicated Millie with his head. “When I got off the phone with my boss I looked closely at her. Thought it was a ghost at first. Saw the other officers and realised that no, you’re just some little girl come to avenge your bitch of a sister.”

Mille struggled some more, testing Boot’s grip on her, but he held her all the more tightly cutting off her air supply a little. “I will shoot you,” he growled.

Richard didn’t have the answers, so he asked the question, “What’s the plan?”

* * *

 

Fidel was kindly holding the woman’s hand, whilst Dwayne said something reassuring. A woman who was a doctor or nurse was tending her. Camille had no time for empathy for this victim now.

“Up now!” she said urgently.

They didn’t need telling twice.

“What are you doing here? Where are the Chief and Millie?” Dwayne asked her, searching the crowds. Nobody had left the boat, harbour security preventing it once they realised the woman had been pushed rather than fallen. The officers hadn’t realised their superiors were gone in all the commotion.

“There on board, engine room I think. Barbados police called, said Boot was known to occasionally carry a firearm. When they raided his flat earlier they didn’t find it. He could be armed, and they are on that ship with him. We’ve got to find them.”

* * *

 

“Well I’d quite like it if I didn’t get arrested. I figure since I’ve got this one as a hostage we could make a deal,” Boot told Richard, still grinning wildly. “How does that sound officer?”

“They are going to have called for backup by now, won’t just be those two officers anymore,” Richard told him, trying to buy himself some thinking time. He kept his eyes on Millie, who seemed to prefer the idea of being shot to letting Boot go.

“Small island like this? I don’t think so. I’ve been in the area a while, Officer.”

“So you want to just walk off this boat, through all those people upstairs, and hope they just stay back. Because people are unpredictable Boot, somebody might try to be a hero. Can’t keep your eye on all of them at once, and that somebody might just succeed.”

Boot considered this a moment, letting out a long breathe down the side of Millie’s neck, who wriggled in disgust. This seemed to amuse him, and he leered at her.

“Got as much nerve as your sister,” he whispered in her ear. “She fought back as well.”

“Hmmm,” Boot tapped his gun against his thigh. “Perhaps you are right Officer. Perhaps I should just shoot the two of you and risk sneaking off the boat unnoticed.

As Richard processed this possibility, he realised he would be thoroughly annoyed if he died without sorting out this thing with Camille. Heck, she’d doubtless be equally pissed, and find a way to resurrect him so she could kill him herself. Probably because he was thinking about her, when he heard her voice shout out from a gallery somewhere above and behind him, he thought perhaps they stress was causing him to imagine her. Surely she wouldn’t be so stupid as to come barging into the situation and just demand Boot drop his weapon.

“I said DROP IT!”

Of course she was. But Boot didn’t drop his weapon. He fired it.

 

* * *

 

Despite what Richard was probably thinking, Camille’s aim was not to just barge in and demand Boot surrender. She’d heard what he’d said, and she was hoping to create any sort of distraction that could give Mille or Richard an edge. A shot from this far would be difficult, and we he aimed his gun and fired she easily dived out of the path of the bullet. Fate, however, didn’t like her. You shoot a bullet in a large metal container and it may very well ricochet, and this one did straight into her.

 

* * *

 

Millie took the advantage. His arm had shifted when he’d taken the shot and she was able to sink her teeth into his flesh, his grip loosened instinctively and she took him down quickly and efficiently. Fidel literally jumped from the gallery to come to her assistance, cuffing Boot and kneeling on his back.

Millie looked up and Richard was taking the stairs two at a time, and Dwayne was shouting up through the bowels of the ship, for help, for an ambulance.

What had she done?

 

* * *

 

There was blood, too much blood, this wasn’t just a graze. She was still conscious though, so that had to be good.

“You’re an idiot,” he told her, kneeling next to her. A clanging behind him let him know Millie had followed; she stepped round him and over Camille, clearly remembering more about first aid than Richard could as she inspected the wound.

“I think you’re supposed to say something comforting,” Camille advised him weakly. “Or thanks for saving me would be ni-Ah! _God!_ ”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Millie was actually in tears, but sounded relatively calm, as she pressed down hard on the wound. “I have to apply pressure.”

“There is no way I’m being nice to you for doing something so stupid! Besides, the more I annoy you the quicker you’ll get better so you can kick my arse.”

Dwayne interrupted, “There is an Air Ambulance coming, Doctor on board. They are going to fly you to Guadalupe.” He told Camille.

She squeezed his hand, he didn’t even realise he’d been holding it, “Finally getting rid of me.”

“Changed my mind about that, a long time ago, rather you stayed here,” Richard told her.

“With you?” Camille asked.

“Yes, with me.”

For a moment, he felt like it was just them, and there wasn’t this terrible thing between them. But then the world was motion and noise again and a man in a jumpsuit was issuing orders and Mille was pulling him away,

“Let the Doctor’s do their work, Richard.”

He looked down at her, “Tell me she’ll be okay.”

Millie knew you were supposed to lie in these situations, to give people comfort. But she was a young woman who’d lost her sister to an act of mindless violence, a police officer who’d seen a lot more of it during her career. And she was being asked the question by a man who’d also lost somebody he loved, who knew tragedy all too well and was facing the possibility of losing another woman he loved.

“I can’t,” she told him. “I’m not sure she will.”

 

 


	11. Closure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All done! Now I can start working on one of the other billion fics in my head. Thanks for reading, and for all the feedback peeps.

There was no doubt about it in Richard’s mind, there was something wrong with him. If he was solving a case, he was quite happy to have all eyes on him whilst he went over the details and revealed the killer, but in any other situation he’d rather be on the periphery, keeping to himself. But this was important, he needed to do this. Stand up, and say nice things about her – lots of wonderful qualities to pick from.  He’d briefly considered begging the Commissioner to do it, but thought people might think he didn’t care which was far from the truth.

Millie graced him with a small smile of encouragement from another table. She’d managed to stay an extra day on the island after the incident, whilst it was decided what Colin Boot would be charged with and where, rather more importantly, he’d be tried. However despite not wanting to leave Richard, she’d been forced to return to the UK – though not a day had gone by during that time when she hadn’t called him. She’d flown back in for today, doing the rather insane thing of arriving on a Friday night and having to leave first thing tomorrow morning – but she’d insisted she was going to be here.

She’d brought with her an A & E Doctor boyfriend Richard hadn’t actually known existed. When he realised how serious it was between them the over-protective side of his personality kicked into full gear and he found himself asking the young man about his intentions towards Millie. Millie had laughed at his seriousness, but not unkindly. Luckily the gentleman in question proved to be polite, charming and completely smitten with Millie. Richard found he was intensively grateful for his existence – proof Millie was actually practising what she preached.

When Millie had gotten ten minutes alone with Richard she’d asked his opinion on her boyfriend and he told her he approved.

“Good, because I think I might ask him to marry me,” she’d surprised him by saying. “I think recent events prove life is too short for us to spend any more time trying to be certain that it will work forever, because we’ll make it work.” Looking back, he wondered how much of that stumbling little speech was actually for his benefit.

This situation was ridiculous, and he sighed loudly earning a raised eyebrow from his neighbour. Oh well, he might as well have a moan about it.

“You know, I checked and no law enforcement officer in the history of Saint Marie has ever been shot three times in the line of duty. Therefore I don’t see how it could possibly be _tradition_ that should such an event occur the officer in question gets a party where their boss has to say nice things about them.”

Camille grinned, “It’s a new tradition, and we’re setting a precedent.” She shrugged and then grimaced when the movement pulled at her wound.

Richard was concerned but before he could start fussing she warned him off with a look and told him, “Get on with it then!”

The second sigh was even bigger.

 

* * *

 

The next day, when Richard returned home from dropping off Millie and her fiancé to the airport, he found Camille sitting on his veranda with a suitcase, having some sort of staring match with his lizard.

“Are you going somewhere?” He asked, rather perplexed. Opening up the bungalow she followed him inside, going to drag to suitcase in but he took it off her, and she just smiled and picked up a shopping bag she also had with her.

“Well, if you ask my mother, I’ve had to go to Guadeloupe to see a physiotherapist for a week,” as she spoke, she started to unpack things from the shopping bag. Her statement had done nothing to lesson his confusion, and the fact she’d just put a new French press in his kitchenette was also not giving him much of a clue.

“Where are you actually going? And why are you putting coffee in my cupboards?”

“I need to get away from my mother’s fussing, and because I need coffee in the mornings.”

“Camille, you just got out of hospital, you need fussing over. The bullet pierced your lung for God’s sake!” he protested.

“Yes, I have just got out of hospital, where I was stuck for a month being coddled by nurses. By the way, I’m pretty sure you didn’t need to bribe them every day with chocolates and charm to get them to look after me better. Instead they just teased me relentlessly.”

Richard looked sheepish, “I was just trying to help. So they told you then?”

Camille took a step towards him, and placed her hands on his chest, “Well, I think it was very sweet of you. They didn’t have to tell me, it was pretty obvious something was going when they kept telling me what a lucky woman I was to have such a charming, kind man care about me so much instead of coming to me and threatening to kill you.”

Her proximity seemed to have caused him to cease being able to form sentences, “So, can I hide here for a week with you?”

He decided he needed to look her in the face to ask the next question, “Do you mean, um, like, what I’m trying to say is...”

“Yes,” Camille interrupted him. “I have no intention of either of us sleeping on the sofa. And get that look off your face I’m not made of china! One of the nurses _kindly_ assured me as long as I didn’t swing from any chandeliers I’d be fine.”

Richard looked like he was trying to work out the logistics of that, which frustrated Camille who was still waiting for an answer. He seemed to come to some sort of conclusion.

“If your mother catches us, she’s going to kill me,” he told her, hands moving onto her hips.

“Well we better stay out of her way then,” Camille was grinning like a school girl.

“In fact, maybe we should keep leaving here to an absolute minimum,” he told her, somehow managing to pull her closer and yet still not close enough.

“Oh will you stop teasing and kiss me!” he did, and Camille was very, very glad she was no longer attached to a heart monitor because she was pretty sure it’d be indicating some kind of tachycardia right now.

He pulled back from her, and whilst she was grateful for the oxygen break she also wanted him back.

“Want to unpack?” he asked all innocently, which completely threw her.

“Huh?” She really just wanted to go back to what they’d been doing.

He laughed at her and she glowered at him, but then he pulled her back in for another kiss and this time Camille had no intention of letting him stop.

 


End file.
